Sam: More than Muscle
by RRP
Summary: Everyone's favorite Sweeper has a life himself-- and he's not just brawn. Sweepers come with brains. R/R!


Disclaimer: I don't own them! I promise I'm not Steven or Craig or TNT in disguise! (Question: What exactly does TNT look like? Who is he? Hm?) I don't own Eminem, although I do like a few of his songs. I'm portraying characters, not personal opinion here. Oh, and I don't own Starbucks. Coffee or Scully. Though I wish I owned the coffee part. And I have a Scully clone. Long story. Don't ask...

A/N: Born on a dark stormy night...actually, I forget what the weather was like, and I know I was high on soda-caffeine and wanted to write a Sam piece. I've done a lot of Sam stuff lately. Hmm. This has been in progress for a while, and I think I can post it now. It's a lot longer than stuff I usually post, excepting the Portrait chapters, so you're in for a hopefully good read. I am accepting plot ideas at RivenRebelPoet@hotmail.com so if you think of anything, just yell at me. There will be some humor in here, but it may also progress to dealing with serious subjects. Please R/R!

Sam: More than Muscle

_by RRP_

The room was littered with candy wrappers and news clippings– things Miss Parker was accustomed to finding at Jarod's leftover lairs. She was looked around the room with a rueful look on her face, as Sydney and Broots browsed the things Jarod had left behind, hoping to find some clue as to his next location. Sam was checking the windows, doors, other rooms and closets, in case of the slim chance that they had surprised the Pretender and he had hidden. 

Miss Parker opened her mouth with full intent of snapping at everyone to go, and tell Sam to call a Cleaner team in, but was stopped short when a cell phone started ringing. Immediately, she, Sydney, Broots, and Sam were all looking down to check their phones. Sam held his up, and while stepping to a corner of the room. 

"Sam Lawson." Miss Parker watched an irritated look cross her Sweeper's face, followed by surprise and a bit of anger. "No!" He broke out vehemently, at whoever was on the other end of the phone. "I told you I can't!" Another pause. "What do you _mean_ she's already there? I'm in Pennsylvania!" He hung up the phone with a growl, and snapped it back into it's belt-holster. 

"Something wrong?" Sydney asked quietly, his smooth accent and tone seeming to welcome the world's problems– the trained voice and rhythm of a psychiatrist. Sam sighed, and turned to Miss Parker. 

"I've got to go. Something's come up. My cell will be on if you need to reach me." And with that, without waiting for permission or leave, he left. Miss Parker, Broots, and Sydney were blinking at nothing before they realized he was really gone. 

"Well..." Miss Parker couldn't think of anything to say of the out-of-character behavior of her Sweeper. 

"Just when you think you've got someone figured out, they go do something strange." Broots murmured mournfully, turning back to his pile of things Jarod left behind. Miss Parker shook her head at the place Sam had stood just seconds before, and resolved to have a talk with him about employer/employee rights when she got back to Blue Cove.

Sam stalked down the long hall of the airport terminal, face grim and set. The phone call had started the bad mood, and what was waiting for him at the end of the hall was only furthering the effect. He knew he was in for it back at the Centre– no one talked to Miss Parker that way and got away with it. No one. He knew that much.

As he rounded the final curve in the hallway, he saw her. Sitting in a hard, plastic chair chewing gum, and scanning the near-empty airport. Had she been small and forlorn looking, or anxious and watching, pity might have begun to grow. But instead, her eyes were challenging, and held an "don't care" attitude. Hair dyed black and twisted into strange loops accompanied a spiked choker, as well as black make-up and baggy clothes riddled with patches and clothes-pins. 

It was one thing for a homeless kid to dress like that– another for a girl who's family was considerably well off in the financial department. She was bobbing her head to the music coming out of the headphones hiding her ears– music so loud Sam could hear it from where he stood. He bit back a sigh, and strode over to her. 

"Let's go." He snapped, pulling the earphones away from her ears so she could hear him. She looked up and glared at him, turning the music up even more and crossing her arms– a gesture that clearly screamed, "make me!". 

"Thanks for showing, big bro." She shot back, sarcasm dripping from the words. Sam briefly wondered how she managed to control her tone and listen to the music at the same time. This time, he did sigh, and put into use the quick hands that had helped him climb the Centre rungs. 

Before the girl could blink, Sam was holding her personal CD player in his hands, disconnected from the headphones now silent in her ears. She jumped up and reached for it; he easily held it above his head, beyond her reach. 

"I'm going to get something to eat. When you get hungry, or want the music back, and you're ready to go, come join me at the Starbucks down the hall. Are we clear?" 

"Crystal." She shot back, sitting down again with a defiant frown. Sam slipped the CD player into his jacket, and walked back the way he had come– with full intention of keeping his end of the deal. He _was_ hungry, and it sounded like a good plan besides. He only hoped it would work. 

The Starbucks was other wise empty, and he sat down at one of the high tables for two, and studied the menu. Or tried to. His mind was somewhere else entirely. It was focused on the teenager sitting just a hundred yards away from him, on a cold, orange airport chair. 

Adrianna was the youngest child in the Lawson family, born just as Sam was leaving for college. Michaela was a year younger than Sam, and left for college herself not long after. Sam had gone on to work at the Centre after getting a degree in Security Tactics and Administration, and only saw Adrianna on the holidays. 

He remembered her first being a spunky little girl, with a joyful, inquisitive spirit. His parents had doted on her as if she was more of grandchild than an actual daughter, and Sam had always been more of an uncle figure. As she got older, from his far apart and few visits, it wasn't hard to see the drastic change in her. 

As a preteen, she was rebellious and moody; and as a teenager, she was a rebel all the way. She dressed like a punk, listened to all the dirty music, and pretty much made family get together's seem like replicas of hell. Thanksgiving dinners were interrupted by her storming off half-way through the meal, and then cranking up already loud rock music. 

The last holiday had simply been too much. Christmas Eve dinner brought the annual 'Angry Adrianna' skit, followed by the music. Before an entire minute had gone by, Sam had already caught five expletives in the music. Michaela and her husband David had taken their toddler and impressionable five year old, and left the house. Sam didn't blame them. 

Since then, his parents had been trying to get a break from Adrianna, trying to get Sam or Michaela to watch her for a few weeks. Michaela had refused right off, on behalf of her children. Sam's parents had reluctantly agreed that it wasn't a good idea. Sam was left, and seemingly perfect for the job. He didn't have any other family, his job couldn't possibly take that much of his time, and he had always been a bit stubborn. Just the kind of person Adrianna needed.

First, Sam had adamantly refused on basis of protection of sanity– he didn't need more stress, with Miss Parker already eating him out every time they missed Jarod, and Mr. Lyle always demanding he prove his loyalty to the Centre by doing things that by all appearances were only for Mr. Lyle's personal gain. Then, for Adrianna. She was still his sister, and he wasn't letting her anywhere near the Centre. 

He assumed it had just gotten to be too much for his parents– they were at a snapping point. That had to have been what compelled them to put Adrianna on a plane, and only call to tell them she was coming after she was already more than halfway there. He had been biting throats ala Miss Parker style since the phone call, just to get to the airport before too much time had passed.

"Sir? Would you like something?" Sam was jerked out of his thoughts by an older man, much shorter than Sam himself, dressed in black slacks and a Starbucks shirt. Sam glanced half-heartedly at the menu, not feeling very hungry anymore, and sighed. 

"All the answers to all the worlds problems." He muttered under his breath. The man chuckled, and pulled out the other stool to sit upon it. Sam's gaze trailed to the scowling teenage girl, still sitting on the hard plastic chair. The man followed Sam's gaze, and chuckled again. 

"My name's Jesse. I've been serving coffee for forty-five years, and fixing problems for almost as long. Is she your daughter?" 

"Sam Lawson." Sam said, shaking the man's hand while he shook his own head. "No. She's my sister." 

"Parents dump her on you? Don't look so surprised! I see a lot of that happening these days. What's her name?"

"Adrianna." Sam replied, studying her clothes more carefully. He could swear that her shirt had at least one curse word on it, now that he looked. "I think I'll take a Caramel Glacier. It sounds kinda like my boss." 

"Caramel Glacier it is. Anything else?" 

"I don't know what she'll drink. So that's it for now." Sam nodded to Jesse as the man got up, and moved towards the counter. He was bored, and getting a headache from all the stress. Sam desperately wished her could get out his gun, to clean it or for target practice– anything. But who knew the troubles that would result from getting it out in an airport. He had only gotten past the metal detectors and the guards by showing them the concealed weapon permit, and his Centre name tag. They were used to Centre people moving in and out of the Blue Cove and Dover airports with guns, and it wasn't much too much of a problem to let him past. 

Sam instead pulled out the headphone-less CD player, and looked at the CD within. It said, "The Eminem Show" on it in big lettering, and he growled. No wonder she was dressing and acting the way she was– he couldn't believe she got away with listening to that kind of trash. Jesse set the tall cup of cold coffee in front of him, and glanced at the CD. 

"Garbage." He spat out, as he began to wipe a nearby table.

"I know." Sam agreed. He held the CD out like it was a deadly snake, extending it towards Jesse. "Would you mind throwing it away for me?" 

"It would be a pleasure!" Jesse intoned, a large grin crossing his face as he snatched the CD out of Sam's hand. Sam allowed himself a small smile, and he took a sip of the coffee. It wasn't bad. Wasn't bad at all. A bit tart, but that was to be expected. 

Sam sat in silence, quietly sipping the coffee for another fifteen minutes. It was halfway gone when Adrianna joined him at the table, eyes downcast. She took the CD player and plugged the earphones back in– but was surprised when the digital screen blinked with the message, "NO CD!!!". Anger stole her features, and she glared at Sam. 

"What happened to my CD?" She asked, throwing in a few swear words along the way. Sam shrugged. 

"It is what it is." 

"You threw it away?" She demanded loudly. Sam couldn't hold back a slight grin. She was obviously used to her music being referred to as "trash". He nodded slowly, and took another prolonged sip of the coffee. 

"I'll buy you another one. Just not the same CD. Something cleaner. Want something to drink?" 

"No. You're worse than Dad. At least he only took 'em away for a few days. I hate the world." 

"That's nice to know." Sam replied stoically. "At least I know what you don't like. Let's start working on what you do like. Anything?" 

"My music. My friends." Adrianna ground back, cursing several times under her breath– at Sam and her parents, mostly. "Just so you know, I hate you too."

"I'm delighted." Sam returned dryly. "Ready to go?" The broad shouldered Sweeper didn't give Adrianna much choice. He stood, and reached inside his jacket for his wallet. For the first time, Adrianna saw his gun. He had left it at home while traveling for the holidays, and never said anything about owning one, so it came as a shock to Adrianna.

"You carry a gun?" She questioned in disbelief, shock temporarily draining away her bad attitude. He looked at her with one raised eyebrow, and slowly nodded.

"My job does require one. Or did it never occur to you that someone with a degree in Security would carry a gun?" 

"Oh, sure it occurred to me. I just didn't think you'd bring it in an airport." Adrianna made a weak attempt at covering up her ignorance, while returning her glare to the floor. She hated feeling stupid almost more than anything else, and wasn't too thrilled with appearing so in front of her older brother.

"Let's go." Sam repeated his words from earlier, and this time she followed him. They walked down the halls, towards baggage claim; the scuffing heels of her heavy combat boots sounding strange mixed with the clear clicking of his Oxfords. 

Adrianna herself hadn't had much choice in the situation– she was looking forward to a day of skipping school and going out with friends, but had been rudely awakened by her father ordering her to pack her things. She had protested at first, but his booming voice told her that he wasn't giving ground as usual. 

Thrown in the car after her mother had tearfully said goodbye, Adrianna had begun to grow uneasy. She just prayed they weren't sending her to military school or something. Her father had pulled into the airport parking lot not long after, and boarded her on a plane headed for Blue Cove with instructions to wait for Sam. 

Half-anxious to see her brother again, and half-outraged at the sudden change of events and lack of her choice in them, she had arrived at the Blue Cove airport. Adrianna had watched as other people had left alone, or been greeted and whisked off by family, and failed to spot Sam among them. She took a plastic chair, turned her music up, and her "I don't care" attitude on. 

By the time he finally arrived, it had taken all of her self-control to keep from hugging him and crying. Hormones were raging, and she had been scared to death he wasn't coming at all. Her distant, uncaring persona was the only way she could keep from showing her fear. 

Now, entering baggage claims, and close on her only brother's heels, she studied him critically from behind. Taller than her father, broad shouldered and imposing, he was the type of guy she would have truly been frightened by had he not been her brother. Throw in the gun, the iron self-control and will, and he was beginning to scare her a bit anyway. She didn't even know that much about him.

Adrianna had seen him on holidays, when he came to visit the family, but all the memories she had of Sam were fuzzy. She remember him playing with her on the floor of the living room when she was a lot younger, and then drinking soda and watching football with her dad when she was a bit older. By the time she was eleven, the most attention she got from her big brother was when he tousled her hair or complimented her on something she was showing him.

She wasn't sure what brought on the change– her getting older, or him simply changing. She suspected it was a bit of both, but missed the Sam she used to know. Now, opposed to the yelling anger of her father, and the screaming anger of her mother, she was experiencing the silent, tight-lipped anger of Sam. Adrianna knew the minute she saw him walking down the terminal hall that he was angry– it was in his eyes. And her response to him hadn't helped things a bit. 

They reached the baggage claim, and didn't have much difficulty finding her bag. It was the only one still out. It sat next to the conveyer belt, waiting for someone to claim it. Sam wordlessly walked over, and picked it up. He grunted in surprise when he felt how light it was. Seemed empty, really.

Adrianna jerked it out of his hands, determined to show him that she could handle things on her own, but the look of surprise crossed her face as well. She dropped to her knees on the floor, not caring what anyone thought– not that there were many around to see her anyway– and unzipped the suitcase. 

It was empty, except for an envelope with Sam's name in their mother's handwriting. Adrianna handed the envelope to Sam with a frown, while demanding of him and the world in general, "Where are my clothes?"

Sam, meanwhile, ripped the envelope open and growled at the contents. Several large bills were inside, along with a short note– "_Please take Adrianna shopping for more appropriate clothing_.". Adrianna stood up and ripped the note away from him, reading it herself. Anger was growing and bubbling within her, and she throw the note down with an angry yell.

"Who do they think they are to destroy my life like this? I didn't want to come, I didn't want to make anyone mad! I don't want everyone to hate me!" She ranted on, seemingly unable to stop now that she had started. Sam simply listened, thankful that the airport was near empty. 

"I just wanted my own life, and I was tired of hearing, "Michaela this" and "Michaela that" and "Samuel was so much more well behaved than you". I just wanted to be important because of me, not because I could act like you two! And now everyone hates me and my parents don't want me and you're mad and my clothes are gone and–" It was about that point that she had to pause for breath, tears beginning to fall about the same time. 

Sam had her by the shoulders, and was studying her dark eyes intently. "Who said I hate you?"

"Well, you were mad and I thought..." Adrianna trailed off with a sniffle. 

"I don't hate you!" Sam said firmly, shaking her a bit by the shoulders for emphasis. "I'm a bit mad, yes, but you would be too if your parents had called and said your sister was almost to the airport and you had to tell off your boss, make it two states over, and do it all in less than four hours only to deal with a moody teenager who hates _you_." 

"I don't hate you." Adrianna said quietly, shocked by the revelations.

"Then you were lying earlier? You've done a great job this past year, expressing your love." 

"I'm sorry." Adrianna choked back a sob, and flung herself into Sam's arms. Sam was slightly shocked, and stood for a minute before wrapping his arms around her protectively. Her choker was poking him in the chest, and she was crying all over his suit, but he didn't really care. 

"Shh..." Sam pulled her away from him and looked her in the eye. "We'll go shopping tomorrow, okay? Let's just go home and get some sleep." Adrianna nodded with another sniffle, wiping away a tear with her hand. Her cheeks flushed red at the realization she had lost control of herself in front of him, but Sam was zipping the empty bag and seemingly not looking down on her for it.

He extended a hand as he turned to go, and she hesitantly took it. "You never know who may be lurking in the shadows of Blue Cove." He warned, half-jestingly. But part of him was serious, Adrianna could tell. And she was simply grateful he was there with her.

They walked out to his car– a Centre issue Lincoln towns-car, and he tossed the empty suitcase in the back, and opened the passenger door for her. She got in the car while eyeing it appreciatively, and buckled herself in. The engine rumbled to life with a murmur of power, and he eased the big car out of it's parking space. 

The trip to Sam's apartment was made in relative silence, neither person having much to say. Adrianna was musing and Sam was just plain tired– running from state to state chasing Jarod was tiring enough, without adding a teenager into the mix. 

They arrived at the brick apartment building without mishap, and Adrianna stepped out into the chilly Blue Cove night air. Goose bumps rose on her arms, and she shivered in her black tank-top. Sam led up into the building and up three flights of stairs, before they entered a plush and nicely decorated hall way. 

Sam didn't pause to admire the soft carpeting, or the coordinating walls however– he just opened a door with a key, and let them into his apartment. Adrianna stepped inside just as he flicked on the light, and was greeted by an apartment that was clean but not much lived in. Decorations were few, and she was thankful to spot a TV in one corner of the living room.

"I don't usually spend a lot of time at home." Sam answered her unasked questions. "My job keeps me in the office or out of the state most of the time." Adrianna nodded, and he led her down a short hall to a bedroom with even less furnishings than the living room and kitchen. "You can sleep here. I'm the next door over. Want anything to eat?" Adrianna shook her head. She wasn't really that hungry, despite the excitement of the day. 

"I think I'll just go to sleep." She answered quietly, and he nodded as she sat down on the bed. He leaned against the doorframe, and watched her for a minute, before speaking again.

"You need anything, don't be afraid to ask. I've got to go into work at six tomorrow, but I'll be back around ten. Kitchen's stocked, help yourself. We'll go shopping when I get back. You want a t-shirt to sleep in?" 

Adrianna nodded, and watched him disappear from view. It was hard to believe he was really her brother– he was so much unlike both her father and mother. He had a no-nonsense attitude and was ready to make plans and let you accept them; stark contrast to her father's "yeah, whatever" view of life, and her mother's "that's nice, dear" detachment. He reappeared in the middle of her thought process, and tossed her a large gray t-shirt.

"I'm going to bed. Sleep in if you want tomorrow, but be sure you're up before nine-thirty. Be ready to go when I get back." Adrianna again nodded, and Sam pulled the door shut behind him as he left the room. He trudged back to his own bedroom, and tossed the jacket on a nearby chair. He had time for a few blessed hours of sleep before the day started again. And knowing Miss Parker, the next day wasn't to start off being a pleasant one. 

Miss Parker was at the office early, as usual. Yesterday had been a long one, but today was new– new with possibilities of finding new leads. Lyle wasn't pleased with yesterday's dead ends, and she was even more angry about it than her twin was. His Sweeper hadn't suddenly disappeared before they were even half-way done with the job; no explanation given. 

She was currently looking forward to chewing him out– it wasn't too often that she had the chance to lecture him about something and get away with it by him. Sam had been forever telling her that he would release certain information pertaining to their college acquaintanceship if she ever embarrassed him in front of the other Sweepers or something similar.

They had been friends in college, it was true. At one point, they had even dated for a few months; but they ended up deciding it wasn't meant to be, and just remaining friends. Sam had insisted on giving up a job with Pentagon security and staying with her as she worked up the Centre power-ladder. She needed someone to watch her back at the Centre, and what better person than him; with his degree in Security Tactics and Administration? 

Miss Parker was about to press the intercom button, and order her secretary to find Sam, when the intercom crackled to life and her secretary's voice greeted her.

"Sam Lawson to see you, ma'am." 

"Send him in." Miss Parker replied quickly. He knew he was in for it, and that made things a tad easier on her. Sam entered the room with a face of stone, and stood before her in the Centre Sweeper's equivalent of attention. Calm, dark eyes met icy blue ones, and she raised an eyebrow. 

"I'd like an explanation." She informed him coldly, knowing full well that there wasn't anything he could say and get by with– short of his death. And even that would possibly be debated for several minutes, if opportunity provided itself. 

"Family emergency." Sam replied, clearing his throat and shifting on one foot. Miss Parker allowed herself a small smile. He was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. Good. She leaned forward over her desk, and questioned further, in a challenging tone. 

"Like what?" Sam looked over his shoulder, as if he was afraid there were people right outside the door– listening and waiting for him to say something dangerous. 

"My parents dumped my kid sister on me yesterday." He finally spoke, turning back to her with a bit of desperation held in his brown eyes. "She was already at the airport, and I couldn't just leave her there."

"You're duty to the Centre comes before–" 

"Oh, don't give me that bullshit, Parker." Sam snapped irritably. "Since when should work come before family?" Miss Parker frowned at him, and he met her gaze firmly. She sighed, and fiddled with a pencil on her desk. "Her name is Adrianna. I brought her to the campus with me once, when she was three. You probably remember her."

"Adrianna?" Miss Parker repeated, clearing out her memory vaults in search of any connection. Her eyes lit up as the light bulb in the proper storage room went on. "Oh! Adri? That little sprite?"

"Yeah." Sam chuckled. "But not such a little sprite anymore. She's more of a rebel now– the dark clothes, bad music. Whole nine yards." Miss Parker frowned again, remembering that long ago day when Sam had brought his bubbly little sister on campus during a college holiday. She had gone about brightening picnics, being a persistent "study partner", much to the frustration of Sam who was trying to keep an eye on her. "She's at my apartment right now. And I need the day off. I know it's a lot to ask, after yesterday..." 

"Take it. Most cases I would say no, but you don't usually take days off."

"Like boss, like employee." Sam grinned in response, looking over his shoulder again before leaning over the desk. "Thanks. I owe you. Cup of coffee before I go?"

"It'll take more than that," She shot him a rare smile. "But I'll consider it a down payment." 

Sam left the room after quickly masking his smile, and headed for the employee coffee room on Sub-Level one. The smile itself was more than he had expected to see. His Ice Queen boss had been through a lot since they first met in college, and he had slowly seen pieces of her soul stolen.

From a never-ending mystery surrounding her mother's death, to the murder of Thomas Gates, she had never gotten much of a rest in life. Frankly, Sam hated them for hurting her. He didn't hold much respect for Jarod either, because he was usually at the root of all the struggles and strange problems.

Sam wasn't too happy with himself, either. Since arriving at the Centre with her all those years ago, she had gotten shot, held hostage in a bank, nearly killed by Mr. Lyle, among other things. And he, who was supposed to protect her, hadn't been there. He hadn't done his job, and it made him more than frustrated with himself.

He entered the coffee room with a held back sigh, and grabbed a generic looking coffee mug out of a cabinet. Several people around the room murmured sleepy morning hellos to him, and he nodded to them in response. None of them payed much attention– they were used to Sam being quiet. 

After a moment of thought (which involved staring at the empty mug for several extended seconds), he pulled the milk out of the near-by fridge, and poured some into a Styrofoam cup. The coffee mug seemingly abandoned, Sam went about his work in a way that seemed slow while he was indeed working fast. 

Sam added creamer to the cup of milk, and stirred it for a few seconds, before moving back to the mug. He tossed in some sugar, and then poured the coffee– only filling the mug up halfway. By now, he had a small crowd of four watching him intently. He glanced at them with a bit of annoyance in his eyes, then poured the milk into the coffee and stirred. 

"What are you doing?" One of his watchers inquired; a mail clerk, Sam remembered. His name was Henry or something like that. 

"Backyard Latte." Sam replied, picking up the mug and moving towards the door. As the door shut behind him, he heard the rumble of talk start again in the room, and his mouth twisted into a small smile. Just being the Ice Queen's personal Sweeper was enough to grant him silence rights when he entered a room. He had gotten used to it for the most part, but sometimes it still astounded him. 

He chose to take the elevator back down, and found himself regretting the decision almost instantly. Mr. Lyle slipped onto the elevator just as the doors were closing, and reached to press the button for Sub-Level Five, but stepped back when he saw that Sam had already pressed it. It took, as usual, all of Sam's self-control to not glare at the man.

"Rumor has it that you're taking care of your sister for a while." Lyle suddenly said, after the elevator gave a jerk to tell them it was going down. Sam looked at him sharply, and then returned his hard gaze to the elevator doors.

"Rumor travels fast."

"It doesn't help that your apartment building is practically owned by the Centre. More Sweepers live there than regular tenants." Lyle retorted. Sam felt like slapping himself in the head. How could he have forgotten that? And if one Sweeper had seen him with Adrianna, and heard anything at all, then five hundred would have known within six hours. And if that many Sweepers knew, then Mr. Lyle was bound to have heard. 

"Stay away from her, or I'll kill you." Sam answered without moving from his spot near the back wall of the elevator. For someone used to force, as Mr. Lyle was, the calm warning was just as effective as if Sam had slammed him against the elevator doors and screamed at him. Sam noticed that Mr. Lyle was trying to look uncaring while loosening his tie nervously. 

The elevator pulled to a stop at Sub-Level five, and they both stepped off, Mr. Lyle heading one way and Sam the other. As soon as Lyle was out of hearing range, Sam released a breath he had been unconsciously holding. If anyone could scare him, it was Mr. Lyle. He'd never let the man know, of course, but Sam knew from Willie that even Raines was frightened by Lyle. 

Willie probably was too, but would never admit it to Sam; and vice versa. They hated each of course, but didn't mind sharing information when it would benefit their bosses. And that usually meant it had something to do with Mr. Parker or Mr. Lyle. As far as Sam knew, Mr. Lyle had never taken a personal Sweeper, and Mr. Parker's Sweeper was rarely seen– so rarely seen that Sam suspected the man was really assigned to a different job and Mr. Parker merely called him up when needed. 

Sam was standing in front of Miss Parker's secretary's desk before he knew where he really was, and he decided that getting lost in thought was hazardous. She was already informing Miss Parker over the intercom of his arrival, and she waved him in without another glance. He pushed open the doors to Miss Parker's office, and found her already pouring over files and reports. He set the mug on her desk near her hand, and she looked at it, and then up at him. 

"Why the creamer?" 

"Backyard Latte." He replied, fighting a grin at the pleasantly surprised look that crossed her face. 

"You do realize that this doesn't get you all the way off the hook?" Miss Parker asked, taking a sip of the latte. Her eyes closed for a brief second, and she sighed. Sam decided that even if she had cursed him out for the stunt, the bliss on her face at that moment was more than worth it. 

"Yes, but I'm guessing it gets me most of the way off. I've got some papers to grab before I head home. I have to take Adrianna shopping– " Sam winced at the words, but continued. "My mother thought it was a clever idea put an empty suitcase on the plane, with some money and a note to buy some more "appropriate" clothing." 

"I suggest getting some pointers from Broots." Miss Parker replied, with a smile at her Sweeper's plight. She picked up a report she had been reading before he came in, and he wordlessly left the room. Miss Parker's dismissals were usually so subtle that it took a pro to pick them up, and Sam liked to consider himself a pro.

Discarding the idea to talk to Broots, he strode down the hall towards the Sweeper's offices. He assumed Broots would be experienced in that department, but didn't have the time to listen to the man's stuttering for five minutes, before he actually reached anything worth saying. Once in his crackerjack box of an office, he retrieved some papers from atop the desk, and checked the small cubicle for anything out of place before leaving.

The trip home was fairly uneventful, and he took the stairs in the building by twos, pausing to unlock the door before entering the apartment. Adrianna was on the couch with a bowl of cereal, watching music videos on the TV. From what Sam could tell, the people had more skin showing than clothes, and he asked with a dry tone,

"Having fun?" 

"Whatever." Was the response. Adrianna turned the TV off with the remote, and stood up with a yawn. She was dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing yesterday, and her hair was redone in another strange fashion. She put the nearly empty bowl next to the sink, and slouched against the counter, watching him.

Sam set the papers he brought from work down on the kitchen table, and then turned to her. "Ready to go?" Adrianna shrugged. He took it as a yes, and left the apartment. A minute later, he heard her scrambling after him and pulling the door shut with a loud bang.

He watched her shiver as the frigid Delaware air assaulted them outside, and frowned with concern. "Don't you have a coat?" She shrugged again, and hopped into the passenger seat of the Lincoln.

"Left it at home. Didn't know I'd need it." As soon as he started the car, she had the radio on and was playing with the dials. He set his jaw, and pulled the long sedan out of the parking lot. For the next few minutes, there was static and crackling in-between rejected stations. Adrianna cursed freely, then demanded of him, "Don't you have any decent radio stations 'round here?" 

"Guess not." Sam replied, just as she muttered triumphantly under her breath and settled back in her seat with a rebellious smirk. He listened for a few minutes, while she bobbed her head and mouthed the words to the song that was entering the Lincoln via radio wave.

After hearing more curse words than he thought she should know, he flicked the radio off. Adrianna protested loudly, and he sat silently through it all– pleased to note that she didn't turn it back on. Once she had quieted down, and instead was glaring out the window, he spoke. "Is there anything you can talk about besides music? School?"

"It sucks." Adrianna said with a spiteful laugh. "All my teachers are morons and plan to flunk me, it's life." 

"Worst subject?" Sam questioned, determined to keep her talking.

"Math, but I guess Mr. Security Genius wouldn't know anything about having trouble at school." Sam couldn't help but laugh at the title she placed on him, and was having trouble paying attention to the road. Adrianna glared at him, looking more than simply annoyed. 

"I'm sorry, kid. It's just I'm a long way off from genius. And despite what our parents remember of my childhood, I was awful at math." This time, Adrianna looked surprised and wasn't hiding it.

"Really? All I ever hear is, "Samuel never had problems at school," or "We never had this trouble with Michaela!" I was under the impression that you two were perfect. They certainly think so."

"Of course I had problems at school! I couldn't stand math. And Michaela nearly flunked several grades, if memory serves me." Sam pulled up a ramp onto the highway, and Adrianna was silent for a second before answering.

"I didn't know."

"What's your best subject then? And don't you dare say lunch." Sam glanced over at her with a smile, and was pleased to find her fighting a grin.

"History. Don't tell anyone! Everyone says it's boring, but I love history." Adrianna released with a delighted smile appearing in her eyes. Sam couldn't keep the grin off his face– within those sparkling eyes was a trace of the little imp he used to know her as. 

"You've got a beautiful smile." He observed out loud. Adrianna blushed and ducked her head. 

"That's what Ian says." 

"Ian?" Sam questioned curiously. Adrianna nodded, and bored holes in the dashboard with her eyes. She gave no verbal answer however, and Sam had to gently prod. "Go on. Who is he?"

"My boyfriend." She answered finally. "Mom and Dad don't know about him, though. They'd flip if they knew." 

"Is he older than you? Motorcycle, nice car?" Sam was now more than curious– concern was also edging it's way onto the emotion radar. Adrianna kicked at the car floor with the toe of one of her combat style black boots. 

"No." The reply was quiet, and almost inaudible.

"Continue. Should I worry about him showing up at my apartment looking for you?" 

"Hardly." She laughed, and her tone grew quiet again. "He's younger than me, actually. He's fifteen, his name is Ian Crawford, and he's the sweetest guy." 

"What do Ian's parents think about him dating an older woman?" Sam inquired jestingly, receiving a playful punch in the arm for his troubles. 

"I don't know." Adrianna said, suddenly becoming serious again. "I haven't met them yet. He's afraid my clothes will freak them out, and I don't want my friends to think I'm becoming a traitor by dressing in prep wear. What do you think I should do?" 

"Don't ask me!" Sam replied, feigning alarm. "I'm in my thirties and still single. Ask Michaela." 

"I can't ask Michaela!" Adrianna burst out, sounding thoroughly astounded. "She'd snitch on me! Her and Mom are always so buddy-buddy and she'd be sure to tell!" 

"I wouldn't underestimate her like that, Adri. Michaela's had her fair share of strange boyfriends." Sam chuckled, remembering years of Michaela bringing home strange boys– from nerdy guys from science class to boys with long hair, still apparently stuck in the sixties. Sam, the loyal older brother, had drilled them to no end, and it had annoyed Michaela beyond words. The man she was now married to– David Cummings– had been the only one who had passed all of Sam's many questions. And the only one Michaela ever seriously considered marrying the day she met, as she told him later. 

"Yeah?" Adrianna was quiet after that, looking out the window as the cheap interstate landscaping zoomed by the window. She sighed after a moment, and then sat straight up in her seat. "I've got an idea! I get what Mom considers 'decent' clothes, and agree to tell her and Dad about Ian, and in return, you let me find a girlfriend for you!" 

"Girlfriend? I don't date, Adri. And I've got a kill-day job. Girls hate that. I'm a workaholic, almost never home, and–" Adrianna broke Sam's protests off with a hand over his mouth. 

"Calm down. Geez. It was an just an idea. And what do you know? I could find some lady who's just as work obsessed as you, and you'd be perfect for each other!"

"The only lady I know who's as workaholic as me is my boss, and we already tried that." Sam retorted, focusing on driving. Adrianna, however, was insistent. It was getting hard to drive with her hanging on his arm.

"Come on, Sam! Please?" 

"Oh, fine!" He gave in with a laugh, nodding. "Now let go of my arm before we wreck." Adrianna squealed and bounced back in her seat. "One chance. No more." Sam added, sure that any one she found wouldn't last long. Adrianna was looking out the window again, her eyes sparkling again. 

Sam pulled off the interstate at the Dover exit, and headed for Dover's big mall. As he pulled into the expansive parking lot, he was thankful to note that the mall wasn't particularly busy that day. He turned the car off, and the engine died with a sputter. They climbed out of the car, and were greeted by the icy noon winds of Dover.

Together, they hurried inside, and paused to look around. Neon lights proclaimed store names above wide entrances to rooms full of clothes, and the smell of fast food was thick in the air. Several store names Sam recognized, and a few here and there were new and unfamiliar. A music store lie in the distance, far down the hall, and the murmur of music drifted from it. A couple people wandered from store to store, and occasionally there was the frenzied tapping of heels as someone in a hurry blew past them. 

"Let's go into that store over there first, so you can buy me that CD you promised." Adrianna said, pointing to the music store. Sam nodded his consent, and she took off– him trailing at her heels as he was used to doing with Miss Parker. They entered the store, and all types of music from all the sampler stations mixed together at once, creating a soundless roar. Adrianna seemed not to mind at all, instead assuming her customary slouch as she shuffled over to the rack full of rock CDs. 

She browsed the CDs, while Sam watched; he occasionally grimaced in disgust as a CD fell into view. After a few minutes of trying to ignore the rap music playing right behind him, in his ear, Sam bent over to speak.

"I'll be on the other side of the store. Try to find something that they don't curse in, okay?" Adrianna mumbled a "whatever", and Sam quickened his pace as he walked across the store. Stepping into the other side was like stepping into a different world– the rap and rock music was suddenly muted and a contemporary version of Chopin's "Etude in C Minor" was playing.

Sam had no real interest in the CDs– his only goal had been to get away from the sound. So far, he was succeeding. If only the rest of the afternoon would go as well, he would be okay with life for the day.


End file.
